Tokyo: Rabbit Police and Her Evil Partner

Chapter 583 Hostage Squadron of Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department

More than an hour ago, Fushimi Shika gouged out Kato Touma's eyes. Before the guards arrived to help, he did not run away, but hid in the ceiling plenum.

Right now, Fushimi Shika stood at the end of the conference room. In his field of vision, everyone was staring at him, some with fear and anxiety, others with indignation. The dark muzzles of guns were pointed at him, making his heart race and his breathing become heavier.

Perhaps I've become unfamiliar with it.

His mouth was a little dry, and to ensure the operation went smoothly today, he didn't drink much water to avoid needing to urinate midway. He had been in the ceiling mezzanine for over an hour, and the stuffy environment had caused his lips to crack.

Fushimi Shika couldn't help but lick his lips, then spread his ten fingers to show the thin, circular lines on them:
"Gentlemen, please place your phones on the table."

Kentaro Fuyuyama did as he was told, drawing the attention of others.

He paused for a moment, realizing that he was in the Metropolitan Police Department and, after all, a detective, could not easily yield to criminals. So he picked up his phone from the table.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to cooperate,” Fushimi Shika said, taking out an aluminum flask from his pocket. “I’ve put organophosphate pesticides in your water and will share a little-known fact every day: the toxicity of organophosphate pesticides comes from the phosphate ester bonds or thiophosphate bonds in the molecule. Organophosphates will bind to cholinesterase, causing the enzyme to lose its activity.”

Kentaro Fuyuyama was startled. He picked up the water glass next to him, smelled it, and didn't detect any strange smell. But that was normal, since he had heard that pesticides were tasteless or even sweet.

The others couldn't sit still any longer and couldn't help but glance at the cups beside them.

The meeting lasted for more than an hour. Everyone had to speak, and sometimes we even had to raise our glasses strategically, so drinking water was inevitable.

"In a little while, you will experience night sweats, rapid heartbeat, and convulsions in your limbs. If it lasts more than four hours, there will be no cure, and you will surely die."

Fushimi Shika shook the aluminum flask in his hand: "This contains atropine, which can block the pathway of toxicity and restore enzyme activity..."

"Enough!" the head of the security department interrupted. "He's lying. Atropine is an injectable drug! If there were really poison in the water, Commander Kujo would be dead already!"

Kujo Yui drank a lot of water during the meeting, which should have been the largest dose she had taken, but she still looked normal and showed no signs of poisoning.

Fushimi Shika was slightly surprised; he was indeed lying.

Generally speaking, people cannot think calmly in a crisis; with just a little guidance, they will speculate in the worst-case scenario. This is an instinct written into human DNA, a 'panic' emotion that evolved as early as the ape-man era to resist danger.

His lie wasn't clumsy. On the one hand, it was at the one-hour mark, and everyone had drunk water, so it was normal that the drug hadn't taken effect yet. On the other hand, it was also normal for people to experience night sweats, nervousness, and a rapid heartbeat afterward.

If it were a member of the Inagawa-kai or Aum Shinrikyo, they would definitely fall for it and obediently hand over their phone.

Fushimi Shika realized that the Metropolitan Police Department elites were not as incompetent as he had imagined.

At least the Minister of Security understands chemistry.

“Since you want to talk, then let’s talk,” Kujou Yui said, taking the lead. She sat at the head of the conference room, intending to stall for time: “What’s your purpose? What are you here for?”

"I'm sorry, but you're not cooperating and won't fall for my tricks, so I'm out of ideas and there's nothing more to talk about," Fushimi Shika said with a smile.

He retreated step by step. Kujo had a bad feeling and stared at the guards, but none of the four or five guards dared to fire.

That guy had at least six or seven grenades hidden in his trench coat. If pushed to the limit, we'd all die together. Why risk your life for a monthly salary of 50,000 yen? It's better to wait for the terrorist to escape on his own, and then let the riot police hunt him down...

Everyone's hearts pounded with each step Fushimi Shika took as he retreated.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief when Fushimi Shika retreated to the doorway. Fuyuyama Kentaro touched his forehead; it was covered in sweat.

Oh no, I drank too much water, I need to pee...

Kentaro Fuyuyama stood up, intending to take his leave of Director Kujo. As the saying goes, a wise man avoids dangerous situations; it was best to leave this troublesome place as soon as possible.

Before he could speak, a round object suddenly flew in from outside the door, traced a parabola in the air, and then bounced twice on the table.

It was a grenade.

In an instant, the blood on Kentaro Fuyuyama's body went cold.

“Get down!!”

Someone shouted, and Kentaro Fuyuyama instinctively lunged into a corner.

He hit his head on the corner of the wall and curled up, clutching his head.

A second or two later, nothing happened. Kentaro Fuyuyama thought that maybe it was a fake bomb, or maybe the guy was just bluffing. He couldn't help but look up and saw the head of the security department kicking a guard to the ground with a grenade. The guard fell to the ground and then the explosion happened.

A deafening roar shattered the night.

Flames flickered, glass shattered and shards flew, and conference room tables were tossed about. Car alarms blared in the parking lot, and a commotion broke out outside the building.

The plasterboard partition wall of the conference room collapsed, and a grenade shattered the guard's body, splattering blood and internal organs all over the room.

The others were not seriously injured, but their ears were ringing from the shock.

Kentaro Fuyuyama felt a sudden dizziness, as if his internal organs had been displaced. It took him a while to recover, and his ears were still ringing.

Just now... that guy... kicked the guard into a grenade?

One by one, everyone stood up and looked at the head of the security department. The latter was equally disheveled, but showed no remorse as he spoke: "Matsushita-kun bravely threw himself on the grenade...saving our lives...a heroic sacrifice, a first-class merit..."

Fushimi Shika darted in: "We meet again! Good evening, everyone! Huh, how come you're all still alive?"

The Minister of Security abruptly stopped speaking, and everyone huddled against the corner of the wall, too afraid to move.

This guy isn't bluffing; he really dares to throw a grenade!
"What exactly do you want?!" Kujou Yui said through gritted teeth, her hair disheveled.

“Didn’t I say I wanted to talk to you?” Fushimi Shika shook his head and sighed, pacing to the center of the conference room. “Unfortunately, some people are trying to be clever and aren’t cooperating… Yes, I’m talking about you.”

He grabbed the head of the security department, shoved him in the face, and demanded, "You think you're so smart? Do you know what happens when you anger a cheerful, outgoing young man?!"

The head of the security department felt a chill run down his spine, because as Fushimi Shika spoke, he shoved a grenade into his hand.

The grenade's pin was still attached to a thin wire, the other end of which was tied to Fushimi Shika's thumb.

"I've never liked making things difficult for others, but I also hate being made things difficult for others—you tell me, I just want to have a chat, is that so difficult?"

Fushimi Shika led the head of the security department like a dog on a leash; the latter gripped the grenade tightly, following closely behind, afraid of accidentally detonating it, and paid no attention to what Fushimi Shika was saying.

He turned left, and the Minister of Security went around to the left; he turned right, and the Minister of Security went around to the right.

"What do you want to talk about? Can you just say it?" Kujo Yui had also lost her temper.

“Walls have ears, it’s not convenient here, let’s talk somewhere else.” Fushimi Shika began distributing grenades, taping them to the hostages’ backs: “I don’t have many grenades, whoever is lucky enough to get one, remember to hold onto two people on either side, if they escape, don’t blame me for pulling the pins.”

The guard's death was still fresh in everyone's mind, and no one dared to refuse.

Kentaro Fuyuyama was also assigned a grenade, which was stuck to his back. He had to hold onto his two colleagues tightly on either side, for fear that Shika Fushimi would pull the string and remove the grenade.

The commotion outside continued, and some people had already realized that an explosion had occurred inside the meeting room. After distributing the grenades, Fushimi Shika took a guard's pistol and ordered everyone to walk in front, in groups of three, to keep an eye on each other. If anyone dared to move, he would shoot, and when the grenades exploded, everyone would be doomed.

"Turn left……"

"Turn right……"

"Very good, that's it..."

"Everyone is very cooperative! I'm so pleased..."

Fushimi Shika was about to move to another meeting room when he was stopped halfway by the security detail that had arrived as backup. Before he could speak, the head of security hurriedly shouted, "Get out of the way! All of you get out of the way! Don't come any closer!"

The guards were bewildered; none of them had ever seen anything like it. Only after they passed through the corridor and noticed the grenades stuck to the backs of their superiors did they realize what had happened.

Someone has taken half of the Metropolitan Police Department's officers hostage!

The administrative officer immediately contacted his direct supervisor, but the supervisor did not answer, presumably having been kidnapped as well. He had no choice but to report the matter to a higher level, eventually reaching the Prime Minister's residence.

The Prime Minister was appointed to the mission in a time of crisis, mobilizing the SWAT team and snipers to rush to the Metropolitan Police Department building to organize the rescue, while also instructing Metropolitan Police Department staff to begin evacuation in an orderly manner.

Such a commotion naturally attracted the attention of the news media. Before the fire department even arrived, the filming vehicle was already parked downstairs, and the photographer set up his camera to begin a live broadcast to reporter Yazaki Momo.

"Breaking news! An explosion has occurred inside the Metropolitan Police Department building. The cause is unknown, but it is suspected to be a terrorist attack. The Prime Minister's Office has ordered a curfew in Tokyo. As you can see, riot police have arrived at the scene..."

……

Meanwhile, Fushimi Shika arrived at another conference room with the hostages.

He retrieved all the grenades, locked the door, drew the curtains, blocked the vents, and turned the emergency lights to maximum power, placing them on the windows to interfere with infrared imaging.

Kujo Yui sat in the folding chair and said, "You can't escape now. We're surrounded. It's not too late to surrender—"

"Stop talking!" the security chief interrupted.

He warned his superior with his eyes that this guy was a madman who didn't care about life or death, and that talking out of turn would only backfire.

Unfortunately, he could stop Kujo Yui, but he couldn't stop the people outside from shouting.

Squad leader Taguchi Matsu, holding a megaphone, shouted through the conference room window, "You are surrounded! Don't put up any futile resistance!"

The live stream camera tilted up and slowly focused, revealing that only the conference room windows in the entire building were lit up with red light, standing out like fireflies in the night.

Fushimi Shika pulled up a folding chair for himself and had everyone sit in a row on the floor: "Alright, now we can have a proper chat."

No one spoke; everyone stared at him expectantly, wondering what this madman was up to.

"First, there's the head of the security department... Who's the head of the security department?" Someone in the crowd, including Fushimi Shika, raised their hand before continuing, "What's your name?"

“Suzuki Matsu,” the head of the security department said.

“Alright, Mr. Suzuki, do you have any defense for your illegal detention, human trafficking, and dereliction of duty by concealing a report?” Fushimi Shika took a small hourglass out of his pocket, turned it upside down, and placed it on the table: “I’ll give you five minutes to defend yourself.”

"W-What?! That's utter nonsense!" Suzuki Matsu exclaimed.

Fushimi Shika remained unmoved, simply watching him quietly, his expression saying, "I'm listening carefully."

Suzuki Matsu's forehead was beaded with cold sweat; he knew perfectly well what he had done.

The live stream from Cat Island was delayed. In order to get first-hand information, he made a deal with the staff of Cat Island, which is why he was able to predict the winner of the trial every time.

If someone escapes from the island, or if a trial survivor leaves the island and reports it to the police, he will help suppress the case and send the person who reported it back to Cat Island—he is not the only one who does this, so it is difficult to find witnesses for the Cat Island incident.

In addition, when there is a shortage of people for the trials, he will clear out the death row inmates in the prison, or detain the homeless people who have committed crimes and send them to Cat Island to replenish the cannon fodder.

"I didn't do anything! Whatever rumors you've heard, they're all false!" Suzuki Matsu's face flushed red, spittle flying from his mouth. "Everything needs evidence! You can kill me, but you can't slander me!!"

Fushimi Shika waited for a long time, but there was no further news. With two and a half minutes left in the hourglass, he asked, "Is this your defense for yourself?"

"..."

Suzuki Matsu choked up.

Looking into Fushimi Shika's eyes, he finally realized that this was not an interrogation, a trial, or a police investigation, but a death question and answer session.

Just like the trials on Cat Island, if you answer incorrectly, you will die.

Suzuki Matsu kowtowed violently, blood streaming from his forehead: "I'm not human! I was forced into this! It's all those cults' fault—they, they threatened me, threatened my family—"

He spoke incoherently, tears and snot streaming down his face.

Everyone sat around the conference table, no one was using their phones anymore; their phones had all been confiscated. They silently stared at Suzuki Matsu, their former colleague resorting to such shameful behavior to survive, just like the performance they had witnessed on Cat Island.

The struggle to survive is such a cruel performance.

They finally experienced this firsthand.

Soon, five minutes passed, and the last grain of sand fell silently.

Fushimi Shika sighed, stood up, patted Suzuki Matsu on the shoulder, and said, "Go open the window."

"Huh?" Suzuki Matsu was taken aback.

"Go quickly." Fushimi Shika's tone was very gentle.

Suzuki Matsu thought he had gotten away with playing the victim, so he propped up his legs, which had gone numb from kneeling, and cautiously opened the window.

The live stream camera focused on his face, Captain Taguchi Matsu raised his binoculars, and dozens of mobile team members in the parking lot downstairs looked up.

The next second, a rope was looped around Suzuki Matsu's neck, and Fushimi Shika, carrying him by his legs, threw him out of the window!

The slipknot tightened instantly, the rope stretched into a straight line, suspending Suzuki Matsu in mid-air!
His eyes bulged out, like a teru teru bozu (a Japanese doll), swaying in mid-air, his legs struggling desperately, his fingers scratching his neck until it bled.

Silence fell downstairs, and the photographer quietly ended the live stream.

Fear, pain, resentment and other emotions gradually solidified on Suzuki Matsu's face.

"It seems the kidnappers... killed the hostage."

Momoya held up the microphone and murmured.

(End of this chapter)